Things As They Are
by Rossi
Summary: Sequel to "Things Not Meant To Be": Jean's life- without the X-Men!


Summary: This story came about for several reasons. "Things Not Meant To Be" had a really good reception (thanks guys!), and people seemed to like my characterisation of Jean. There was also a general consensus that Scott would find out eventually. Then a couple of challenges came about: the Break-Up Challenge, and the "Things Not Seen in the X-Men" Challenge. During the discussion thread for the latter, someone mentioned that Jean was never written as a single character: she was always attached to some man or other. That got me thinking, and well, this is the result. So now you know what to blame.For those who haven't read it, TNMTB was about a lot of things. The upshot is that Jean and Logan had sex, she wiped the memory from his mind, and has returned to Scott in order to keep the X-Men and the Dream together. Oh, she's also pregnant. It happens when you have sex with someone without protection and he has a healing factor. 

Disclaimer: Jean and her associates in the X-Universe belong to Marvel. I'm just borrowing them. I'll put them back where I found them when I'm done, I promise. It's not like I'm getting any money out of this, anyway. 

Rating: PG13 for adult themes and possible naughty language. 

Feedback: As always, most welcome. 

Things As They Are 1/?By Rossi. beanpos@alphalink.com.au 

["I'm sorry, Logan," she whispered, pulling her sweater on and starting to comb the dead leaves from her hair. "I never planned anything like this, but when the opportunity came... It was the only thing I could do." She pressed her hand against her abdomen with a small smile. "But I can't let you remember this: sooner or later Scott would find out, and that would be the end of us, the X-Men, everything... I'll remember for the both of us. And I'll see our daughter does you proud."] 

"Earth to Jean Grey, come in Jean. Houston, we have a problem. Communications are down." A slim brown hand snapped fingers impatiently under Jean's nose. Startled out of her reverie, Jean jumped, looking up at the laughing black woman standing by her desk. 

"Oh! Misty, I'm sorry. Did you say something?" Misty Knight only laughed again. 

"I've been talking to you for the last five minutes, Jean. I came to walk you home. You finished? It's gone five." 

"Of course! I haven't kept you waiting have I?" Jean scooped up the pile of papers on her desk, shoving them into her zipper folder, switching off the computer and summoning her coat from the closet, all at the same time. There were times when being telekinetic was a godsend. She shrugged into the coat, struggling around her eight months' pregnant girth. 

"Nah, I like watching you space out. Must be a pregnant woman thing. What was it this time?" Misty asked as they left the small office that was home to a support service for women victims of domestic violence and headed for the elevator. Jean sighed. 

"The usual. Just... memories of something better left forgotten." 

"You still miss the X-Men." It wasn't a question. The two women had been friends for a long time. Long enough to know each other inside-out, even if Misty didn't have the benefit of Jean's telepathy. Jean nodded, and the pair waited for the elevator in silence. The silence continued as it arrived and they rode to the ground floor. At the main doors of the building, Misty took Jean's arm. 

"C'mon kiddo, I'm taking the three of us out to dinner." 

"What's the occasion?" Jean couldn't help smiling at Misty's take charge attitude. Once a cop, always a cop, even if she had left the force several years ago. 

"Who says we need an occasion? Did someone make a law while I wasn't looking?" Misty protested, steering Jean skilfully through the rush hour crowds towards a small Italian place they sometimes met at for lunch. 

"Don't you get depressed working with all those victims?" Misty asked, twirling fettuccini around her fork. Jean shrugged. 

"Not as much as you would think... I feel _useful_ there Misty, like I'm making a difference. It's not saving the universe, but it's certainly fulfilling enough. But we always talk about me. How are you and Colleen doing?" 

"Well enough. Business is a bit slow since that Zero Tolerance mess: one look at me and clients run screaming in the other direction thinking I'm a Prime Sentinel. But we manage. Colleen said she'd drop by on Saturday, see how you're doing." 

"I'm doing fine!" Jean protested, laughing, "I'm just a bit slower on my feet than I used to be. Could be because I haven't _seen_ them for the last two months." She squirmed and put down her fork, resting her hand on her swollen belly. "Ow, cut it out, Junior," she told the lump. 

"She's kicking again?" Misty asked with the wistful-yet-relieved grin of a woman who has decided to never have children. 

"Worse than a Hand ninja," Jean complained, "I don't think Rachael shares my fondness for spaghetti marinara." 

"Well, it's not long to go now." 

"Easy for you to say." 

["Jean, the results are ready." 

"Thanks Hank, I'll be right there." As she released the comm-link, Jean couldn't help the feeling of dŽjˆ vu. It wasn't so long ago that Hank had used those very words to summon Scott and herself to his lab for the news that had changed her life. Now she was expecting another such event. But this time she was going to receive the news alone. 

"Jean, the results are positive. You're pregnant." Hank's tone was oddly flat, and a twinge of unease passed through her. 

"Hank, is there anything wrong? With the baby?" Instinctively her hands moved to her still-flat stomach. 

"There were some anomalies in the foetus's DNA, so I ran some extra tests. Jean, I know. There's no possible way this could be Scott's child." 

"Oh." 

"Jean, how could you? How could you betray him like this? Scott has loved you since you were both children. This will kill him, you know that." 

"Of course I know that, Hank, but I didn't have a choice!" 

"What? You mean Logan..." 

"No! It was nothing like that! If anything, _I_ seduced him! But Scott pushed me into a corner. He didn't want to have children, _wouldn't_ let me get pregnant, so I had to find another way!" 

"Does Logan know?" 

"Hank, he doesn't even know we made love. I... I wiped the memory from his mind afterwards." 

"You did what? Jean, I can't believe you'd do such a thing." Jean looked at one of her oldest friends with an icy green gaze. 

"Then maybe you don't know me any better than Scott does."] 

"C'mon Jean, PUSH!" Sweat poured down Jean's face as she struggled against her own body. The contractions were unlike anything she'd ever experienced, worse even than the solar flare that almost killed her as she tried to pilot a crippled shuttle back to Earth. That pain had ended with the creation of the Phoenix. She couldn't help but wonder if this pain would do the same. 

"Arrrgh!" she screamed, as another contraction bore down on her. She gripped Misty's hand tightly, so tightly the ex-cop turned private operative was glad of the metal prosthetic. If the hand had been flesh, Jean's hold might have crushed it. 

"That's it, Jean, I can see the head!" encouraged Dr Reyes, "Not long to go now! Come on, one more push and you'll have your beautiful baby!" 

"I can't!" Jean whimpered, panting with exertion. She'd been in labour for fourteen hours, and despite the peak physical condition her years with the X-Men had given her, it had been a long birth. 

"Yes you can," Misty told her, "Think of everything you've sacrificed for this moment. You can't give up now, not when she's so close." 

"It's not as if I can do anything about it anyway," Jean growled back at her, "You're just lucky I'm wearing this collar..." Her words died away as she felt another contraction coming on. "You'd better be right about that 'one more push'," she warned Dr Reyes as she grabbed the metal rails of the bed. "AAARRRRGH!!!' The scream of pain changed in mid-flight to a squeal of relief and surprise as she felt the baby slip free of her body. 

"Congratulations Ms Grey!" Dr Reyes beamed, struggling to be heard over the baby's loud cries, "It's a beautiful baby girl!" 

"Oh!" Jean cooed as a blanket-wrapped bundle was handed to her, "Misty, she's absolutely perfect!" She smiled tiredly down at the small, scrunched-up red face, "Hello, Rachael honey. Welcome to the world." 

End of Part One. 

Disclaimer: Jean and her associates in the X-Universe belong to Marvel. I'm just borrowing them. I'll put them back where I found them when I'm done, I promise. It's not like I'm getting any money out of this, anyway. 

Rating: PG13 for adult themes and possible naughty language. 

Feedback: As always, most welcome. 

Things As They Are 2/?By Rossi. beanpos@alphalink.com.au 

[The boathouse was dark as Jean returned some hours after her confrontation with Hank. Even as she felt for the light switch, she could feel him sitting in the dark living room. He knew. The anger,grief and sense of betrayal flooding down their link was impossible to ignore. 

"Scott." Her voice was surprisingly steady. Even with the glasses obscuring his face, the look he gave her was still eloquent. "You know," she said. It was a statement, not a question. Scott laughed, his voice low and bitter. 

"Know? Know that my wife is pregnant to another man? What makes you say that?," he mocked her, "I thought you were the second most powerful telepath on the planet. _You_ tell me what I know." 

"I know you're angry, and hurt, justifiably so. But believe me, Scott, I never meant..." 

"Never meant what? For me to find out you'd slept with Wolverine? That you were having his child? _Were_ you ever going to tell me?" 

"Of course..." 

"When? After the baby was born? When he had his first birthday? On his wedding day?" 

"I was planning on telling you when I thought you'd be able to handle it!" Jean retorted, her own temper flaring momentarily, "Perhaps when Hell froze over?" 

"Sorry to disappoint you Jean, but I'm not the sort of man who can laugh off his wife's adultery. And to think I found out because I was worried about you. I knew you were having extra tests done, and I was concerned... When Hank told me you were pregnant, I knew I couldn't be the father, so I made him tell me everything. Jean, how could you betray me like this? Haven't I always loved you, no matter what?" 

"Have you?" she asked quietly. "Or do you love someone who isn't real, who never existed? Scott, you don't love me. You love an image of me, aperfect illusion that never can be real. You can't handle the flesh and blood me, the me that has feelings that aren't always nice. I've tried to live up to that image, but I can't. No-one could. And I'm not going to try any more." 

"What do you mean?" Fear crept into his voice even though his face remained impassive. 

"I'm leaving." 

"You can't! What about me? What about the X-Men, the Professor? What will I tell them?" 

"Tell them anything you damn well like!" she retorted, truly angry at last. "It's time I had my own life for a change, without worrying about whatyou or Charles or anybody else might think." 

"Then what about the baby? How will you cope on your own? What will you do for money?" There was a long pause. For a moment, Jean almost faltered in her determination. Raising a child on her own would be the hardest thing she'd ever done. Away from her friends, her family- they wouldn't understand what she'd done, and she couldn't lie to them- on her own for the first time since... since _ever_. Then something struck her. 

"How did you know this baby wasn't yours?" she asked suddenly. The surprise on Scott's face was almost comical, if the moment hadn't been so charged. 

"I-I didn't," he stammered, "Hank told me." 

"Hank wouldn't have told you that out of the blue. And you _said_ that you knew the baby couldn't be yours. So how did you know?" By now Scott was standing, retreating under Jean's angry advance, until she grabbed him telekinetically. "Tell me, Scott! How did you know?" 

"I can't have children. Not any more," he choked out at last, face turning red under the force of her telekinetic grip. "After that false alarm, I had a vasectomy." 

"You did what?" Jean's voice was a horrified whisper. "Without telling me?" 

"You wanted kids so badly I couldn't tell you I didn't. I thought you'd give up after a few years, find something else to focus on..." 

"Like what? A dog?" Now she was yelling, outraged by his selfishness and narrow-mindedness. 

"Something like that," Scott admitted reluctantly. Jean hurled him across the room, where he hit the other wall and slid down, looking dazed and stunned by the ferocity of her anger. She stood over him, eyes incandescent with fury. Scott cowered as she started to reach out for him again, closing his eyes behind the glasses. Then he heard somethingentirely unexpected. Jean was laughing. 

"Jean, what... ?" he began, afraid to antagonise her again. 

"Scott, you have no idea how much easier you made this. I've just spent the last two hours trying to summon up the courage to tell you about the baby, trying to find the least hurtful way. Now that doesn't matter. You've made me almost glad this baby isn't yours. Logan may be less than human now, but he's more a man you'll ever be. I'll send for my things later." 

"But where...?" 

"My parents first. Then I'll see about getting a place of my own. And a job, a real job, for a change. Goodbye, Scott." With that, Jean bent and kissed him softly on the cheek, severing the rapport as she did. Then she turned and left. She felt nothing but relief.] 

"Bye baby bunting, daddy's gone a hunting," Jean sang softly to the infant in her arms. Rachael had just been fed and burped, and was drifting off to sleep. "He's gone to catch a rabbit skin, to wrap the baby bunting in." 

"Probably with his bare teeth," remarked a young female voice from the doorway in a tone of bitter humour. 

"Kitty?" As Jean looked up at her visitor, Kitty saw the inhibitor collar around the new mother's neck. 

"So that's why you didn't 'hear' me coming," she remarked dryly, entering the room, "I thought you were losing your touch. Why the collar?" 

"A compromise on my behalf. All mutants treated in public hospitals are required to wear a collar unless it endangers their lives. Makes the staff and other patients feel safer." Jean smiled sadly and stroked the red fuzz on Rachael's head, "So much for the Professor's dream. We X-Men have been so isolated from the rest of the world, we have no idea what it's like for ordinary mutants..." Then she met the younger woman's eyes with her keen green gaze. "You're still angry at Logan?" 

"Why shouldn't I be? He let me down, Jean." Kitty started pacing the small room. "After all that crap about not running away from your problems he fed me in Japan, what does he do? Vanish into the wilderness to live like some kind of animal? _He's_ the one who runs away!" 

"He didn't run away, I drove him away," Jean told her softly, "I stole something important from him, and even when I gave him the memories back, the trust was gone. It's something he needs to sort out by himself. He's pulled himself back before: I'm sure he'll do it again." In her arms, Rachael whimpered and squirmed restlessly, as if feeling the strong emotions around her. "Shh, love, it's all right. Mommy's just sad, that's all," Jean murmured to the baby, rocking her slightly. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset the baby. I should go." Kitty turned abruptly for the door. 

"And break your promise?" Kitty froze, and shot a glance at Jean. 

"How did you know...?" 

"Kitty, you and Rachel were best friends for a long time. I doubt you'd pass up the chance to renew the acquaintance." Jean allowed herself her own wry grin. "Besides, it's the sort of thing you would do, promise to look out for her when she was born." 

"But she's not the same Rachel, is she?" Kitty asked, approaching the bed to look down at the baby. 

"No, she's herself. Not a duplicate of someone who can never be now. She'll have her own future, not one borrowed from someone else. That was the part Scott could never understand. He became such a pawn of destiny that not having children at all was the only way he could think of to escape it. That's why he had himself sterilised." Kitty smiled as she noticed the name on the baby's identity bracelet. 

"RACH-A-E-L?" 

"My own way of fooling destiny. I knew who she was the moment she was conceived. The spelling is just my way of reminding the world of who she isn't." 

"And the Logan-Grey? Won't that piss off the X-Men?" 

"Probably. But I'm used to it by now." Jean patted the side of the bed. "Sit down, tell me about this Englishman of yours. I see you picked up some of his vocabulary." 

["I'm sorry to drop in on you like this, Mom. I know how busy the twins are keeping you." Elaine Grey waved the apology aside. 

"If I can't let my daughter stay when she needs me, what sort of mother am I? You stay as long as you like, Jean. The twins are staying with their father's parents for the week, so there's plenty of room. Now why don't you go upstairs to your old room and get some rest? You look exhausted." 

"Thanks Mom. It's been... a long day." 

"Tell us about it in the morning, dear." Jean could feel her mother's concern and curiosity, despite the raw edges of the severed rapport fluttering in her mind. 'I wonder how sympathetic she'll be when she finds out,' she thought sourly, slowly climbing the stairs to her girlhood room. Not much had changed since she'd left it for the last time to join the X-Men all those years ago. She sat on the edge of the bed, the weariness of too many powerful emotions weighing on her like stone. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, whispering:"Oh, kiddo, what have you gotten me into?" 

"Red?" The voice was little more than a growl. A growl she knew well. Almost as well as the mind it belonged to. She should have known he'd track her down. 

"Logan." There he was, perched in the branches of the elm tree growing near her window, the same tree she'd used to sneak out of the house during her childhood. She opened the window to the chill winter night. 

"What's goin' on, Red? Whachya doin' here?" 

"I'm leaving the X-Men, Logan." 

"An' Cyke? What 'bout 'im?" 

"Him too." 

"So ya had a fight. Is it that bad?" 

"As bad as it could possibly be, Logan. It doesn't get worse." 

"But th' two o' ya're perfect together. I wish ya weren't, but the two o' ya belong tagether." 

'Marriage guidance? From Logan?' Jean's mind whispered to itself in shock. She brushed the voice away so she could focus on the situation at hand. "Logan, you don't understand..." 

"Then tell me." His clear blue eyes were frighteningly human, and Jean's spirit quailed. 'I can't do this to him', the inner voice gibbered. With a deep breath, she summoned her courage. She owed him that much. 

"Logan, I... I took something from you, something which I want to give back. Before I do, I just want to tell you how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you, I just didn't think..." She took another breath. "Open your mind to me, and I'll show you." 

Without hesitation, Logan did as she asked, breaking her heart all over again with his immediate trust. She returned the stolen memories of that day, three months ago, when he had found her desolate and angry in the woods. Of the events that had resulted in the creation of the new life she carried within her. Of her actions afterward, trying to cover up what had happened, for the all their sakes. 

And then it was done. They stared at each other for a long moment, until Jean broke the awful silence. 

"Logan?" She reached out a trembling hand to him through the open window, and pain twisted deeper inside her as he drew back. "Logan, say something. Please." Again, those terribly-human blue eyes caught hers, and she saw something in them die. 

"Jean..." was all he said, and then with a rattle of bare branches, he was gone.] 

End of Part Two. 

Disclaimer: Jean and her associates in the X-Universe belong to Marvel. I'm just borrowing them. I'll put them back where I found them when I'm done, I promise. It's not like I'm getting any money out of this, anyway. This incarnation of Rachael is mine, but if you ask nicely, you can use her. The Common People Coalition is a tribute to Kielle's Common People Project. 

Rating: PG13 for adult themes and possible naughty language. 

Feedback: As always, most welcome. 

This one's for luba. Thanks for the encouragement! 

Things As They Are 3/?By Rossi. beanpos@alphalink.com.au 

"Rachael, honey, I'm home!" Jean called as she opened the door to the small downtown apartment she shared with her twelve year old daughter. All was quiet, except for the rusty miaow of the large black tom that padded into the room. "You home, Rachael?" Jean called again, putting her coat away as she telekinetically lifted two brown paper grocery bags and floated them towards the kitchen. "I guess not." With a sigh of relief Jean kicked off her shoes and padded into the kitchen. On the table was a note in Rachael's scrawling handwriting, embellished with a large smiley-face on the bottom. 

"Dear Mom, Have gone to stay with K&P for the night. Hope your day was okay! See you tomorrow!! Love and Kisses, Rach." 

"Looks like I've got an evening off," Jean told Prometheus, as he wound himself around her ankles, purring loudly, "Maybe I should give Misty and Colleen a call, see if they feel like a girls' night out?" 

"Reow," agreed the large black cat. 

"I just hope Kitty's the one cooking. That husband of hers..." 

["You never struck as the sort of girl to do something just because people expect her to," Jean told Kitty as she tried to spoon apple sauce into a squirming thirteen-month old. From her perch on the kitchen counter on Jean's shoebox of a kitchen, Kitty squirmed herself. 

"I'm not! It's just, well, everyone's been assuming it would happen ever since the three of us re-joined the X-Men. No-one's said anything, but you can tell what they're thinking." 

"There's not much of reading anyone's mind, not since the Psi-Wars," Jean remarked, trying to avoid poking apple sauce in Rachael's eye as she tried to wriggle out of reach. "And why would they assume you and Peter should be together?" 

"C'mon, Jean! They still think of me as the fourteen year old Kitty, the one with the huge crush on Piotr. Even Storm thinks we're great together..." 

"Storm, and everyone else, thought that about Scott and I," Jean warned as she used the spoon to collect the build up of sauce from around Rachael's mouth. "C'mon kiddo, _some_ of this is going to make it inside you today!" Rachael giggled and dribbled more apple sauce down her chin. 

"Perhaps I should just phase it in," Kitty suggested, watching Jean's efforts with amusement. "It would be a lot less messy." 

"Another five minutes and I might take you up on that offer. But don't change the subject." Kitty sighed. 

"I just don't want to let them down. Everything's been so dark and depressing since Excalibur broke up and I came back to the X-Men. Everyone's so on edge. If it's not Marrow nailing Rogue's stuffed toys to the door with her bones, it's Gambit moping about being the Traitor. Storm still won't talk to Rogue after she dumped Remy in the Antarctic like that... Hank and Cecilia are the only normal ones, but they spend all their time closeted in the lab. Kurt is depressed about Amanda, and losing Excal. The team needs something positive for a change. And Piotr needs me. I couldn't betray him again." 

"I seem to recall it was Peter that betrayed you first." By now, Jean had given up on the spoon and was using a wash cloth to wipe Rachael's face, ignoring the muffled squeals of protest. When Kitty didn't answer, she glanced over at the younger woman. 

"Yes, but..." 

"And if you were entirely happy with the situation, you wouldn't be here talking to me about it, would you?" 

"No, but..." 

"You've got more buts than the Marlboro man," Jean smiled, managing to get the last few spoonfuls into Rachael without much more mess. "There, all done." 

"All ton!" Rachael agreed, banging on the high chair with her hands enthusiastically. 

"Pete used to smoke Marlboros," came a small whisper from Kitty's corner. When Jean looked up, a small tear was tracing the contours of Kitty's cheek. 

"Ah, I think we've got to the root of the problem," Jean said to Rachael softly, picking her up and walking over to Kitty. "You still love Pete Wisdom, don't you?" she told the young X-Woman, putting Rachael into her lap. 

"Auntie Tat!" Rachael crowed, giving Kitty a wet kiss. 

"What? That opinionated, sloppy, rude, boorish bastard of a man?" Kitty met Jean's gaze for a second and then hung her head, laying her cheek against Rachael's soft red hair. "Yep, I still do. Stupid, aren't I?" 

"For letting him go the way you did, yes, that was pretty stupid. But it's not to late to go back." 

"I can't Jean. I was so awful to him, just a scared kid trying to be tough. He'll never forgive me." 

"He will if he loves you, Kitty, and from what I saw of the two of you, he does love you. If my choices have taught me anything, you can't spend your life doing what everyone expects of you. Even if those people are your nearest and dearest. You have to do your own thing, once in a while." Kitty was silent, cuddling Rachael in her arms until the restless youngster started squirming. 

"Down!" she demanded, until Kitty laughed and slid off the counter. 

"Fine, Rachael, down it is," she said, putting Rachael on the floor, where she crawled off into the living room at a cracking pace. "Do your own thing, eh? Maybe I just will." 

"No maybes, Kitty. If Pete Wisdom is the one you want, go and get him."] 

"Mom, I need to interview someone for a school project. Can you tell me about the X-Men?" 

"But Rachael, you know all about the X-Men. I've been telling you those stories since you were a little girl. Why not ask Kitty?" Jean looked up from her computer, pushing the glasses she had recently started needing to use for reading up her nose. In the doorway the stocky fifteen year old pulled a face. 

"Because I want to ask you. Besides, Aunt Kat's in England, remember?" 

"There is such a thing as telepathy, honey. Or the vid-'phone." 

"C'mon Mom. It's due tomorrow. Besides, whenever I 'path Kat she and depraved hubby of hers are, you know." A blush coloured Rachael's fair skin, obscuring the dusting of freckles. 

"Fine," Jean sighed, pushing herself away from the computer. "I've got another week before this assignment is due anyway." Rachael stuck out her tongue as she curled up on the battered sofa bed. Jean's study doubled as a guest room. 

"You are such a geek, Mom," she teased. 

"Which is why my marks are better than yours," Jean retorted in the same tone. "_I_ don't leave my homework until the last minute!" 

"As if you need another degree, _anyway_," Rachael shot back with a grin. "Look, are we gonna do this or not?" 

"Fire away. What subject is this for?" 

"History." 

"I may be your mother, but I'm not _that_ old!" Jean protested. 

"Contemporary history, Mom. The mutant/human situation in the Nineties." 

"Oh, I see. So what do you want to know?" 

"Oh, everything. But I'll settle for the X-Men's reaction to the Common People's Coalition." 

"The CPC? Well, after the backlash that followed Zero Tolerance and the use of humans in the Prime Sentinel project, more people were getting tired of the whole situation: Bastion and Creed, the Friends of Humanity, Magneto's threats of world domination... Even the X-Men were not very popular. A lot of that was due to bad press and smear campaigns, but part of it was because they were isolated from the world they were trying to protect. They lost their reference points to the real world." "How do you mean?" 

"Well, most of the X-Men were recruited aschildren or teenagers, and spent most of their adult lives living and working together in the one place, with the same people. Even if they left it was usually temporary. Look at Warren and Betsy; they lasted six months, and then Warren went back to the Professor. Cyclops went back after a year. Even your father returned for a short time, until he went to help out at the Massachusetts Academy." 

"How is Dad?" 

"Well, from what Jubilee tells me. She doesn't see him so much now she's leading the Gold Team, but he seems happy there. Now stop trying to distract me. This is for _your_ project, remember?" 

"Yes, Mother." Rachael rolled her blue-green eyes. 

"Anyway, the CPC was formed by ordinary people, humans and mutants, who were sick of all the fighting between the various factions. They started off as a protest group, but they became so popular they started getting political aspirations. When they ran a candidate in the 1999 Presidential election, they didn't expect to win, it was more of a symbolic gesture. They certainly didn't expect the response they got. Over thirty-five per cent of the vote." 

"I know all that, Mom. What about the X-Men? How did they react to this?" 

"Mixed feelings, to be truthful. Some of them; Sam, Bobby, Hank and Cecilia were pleased about the CPC. They thought it was a hopeful sign. Others like Cyclops and Marrow and Warren were more cynical. I think they were afraid of what the success of the CPC meant to them." 

"What did it mean, Mom?" 

"They'd spent so much of their lives as soldiers, fighting for whatever reason that they didn't know how to stop. They were afraid that a peaceful world would be a world that no longer needed the X-Men. They were right of course. But they didn't want to stop being X-Men, even if it meant peace." 

"That's so dumb, Mom! I mean, you all sacrificed so much for the Professor's Dream, and when it was finally in reach, they didn't want it? What did Prof. Xavier think of this?" 

"I'm afraid that he agreed with them..." 

[Jean Grey, thirty-five years old and mother of a four-year old girl, could still turn heads as she walked into the small exclusive restaurant. Nervously she smoothed the front of her skirt as she scanned the restaurant with both her eyes and her mind. 'What am I doing here?' she asked herself as she soon found a mind as familiar to her as her own. 

~Professor~, she sent politely. 

~Jean, I'm glad you came. And it's good to see you have your telepathy back.~ 

~It took some work, but I needed it to help Rachael. She got hers first, you see.~ 

~Ah, the child. Is she with you?~ ~No, Misty's going to bring her here for dessert. I didn't think it was an appropriate place for a four-year-old.~ 

~Of course. Please, join me.~ The mental voice was as smooth and confident as ever. It was a shock, therefore, when Jean was shown to the table. Charles Xavier had aged considerably during his disappearance, and the effort of using his telepathy was obvious to Jean. His face was haggard, the cheeks sunken and lined, his shoulders slumped. Even his expensive suit sat uncomfortably on his thin frame. But his eyes, those piercing blue eyes that had daunted Jean so much as a small girl, were as bright as ever. 

"Charles, I had no idea..." Jean stuttered, feeling like a child again under that gaze. 

"Of what? Oh, you mean my appearance. Time marches on, Jean, and stops for no man. Not even the great Charles Xavier." His chuckle became a rasping cough, but when Jean tried to help him, he waved her away. 

"So why did you invite me here, after so long?" Jean asked once the coughing subsided. "When you were found, I tried to contact you, but my letters were all returned, and you never answered my calls." 

"I was angry at you, Jean. Angry that you could let your personal whims interfere with the needs of the team. And it cost me not just one, but three good X-Men." Anger rose in Jean at the Professor's words, but she held it in check. This was not the place for a scene. Instead she accepted a menu from the waiter and ordered a glass of white wine. 

"But Scott came back. Kitty told me." 

"But Logan has not, after four years. And you yourself have made it plain you will not re-join the team. And now there's this business of Kitty going to England to marry this Wisdom person. At your instigation, I believe." 

"Kitty is my friend. I only gave her some advice. It was her choice to take it or not." Jean held Charles' angry eyes with her own. "But you didn't invite me here to re-open old arguments. What is it you wanted, Charles?" 

"I believe you're involved with this new political group." 

"The Common People? Yes, I do some work for them." 

"More than a little, if what my contacts tell me is true. You're quite a player in their organisation." 

"What if I am?" 

"I want you to stop it." 

"I'm sorry, Charles, I don't quite understand you." 

"My dear child, you're brighter than that. I want you to stop this CPC." 

"But Charles, I don't understand. Isn't this what you wanted, what your Dream was all about?" 

"Yes, _my_ Dream! Do you think I'm going to sit helplessly by and watch as the Dream I've worked and fought for my whole life is taken away from me? By a rag-tag band of professional protestors?" Jean leaned back slightly in her chair at the sudden outburst. The gleam in Charles' eyes was frightening. It reminded her too much of Onslaught. 

~Charles,~ she said in her most soothing telepathic voice, ~Listen to yourself, you're not being reasonable. We just want the same thing as you. Peace between mutants and humans.~ 

~Don't tell me what I want!~ Jean winced at the force of the response. Charles coughed again and switched back to talking aloud: "Jean, you can't succeed, can't you see that? There are forces greater than you..." 

"Like the X-Men? Charles, we _will_ succeed, whether we have your permission or not. People are tired of the violence, and the CPC is showing them an alternative. I wouldn't be a part of it if I didn't think it mattered." Jean rose to go. Once again they locked gazes, but this time it was Charles that dropped his. 

"Very well. Perhaps I was being... hasty in my judgement. Don't let it spoil this meeting. There is much to catch up on." Reluctantly, Jean sat down again. 

Lunch proceeded without further incident, although the tension was palpable between the two telepaths. Jeans couldn't shake off her apprehension. How much of Onslaught had been Charles Xavier? More than they had previously thought, obviously. She was grateful when the meal drew to a close. 

"Mommy!" Jean turned to see a small red-haired blur tear across the restaurant, narrowly missing creating several catastrophes. 

"Hello honey," she said as Rachael threw herself into her lap. "Did you have fun with Misty?" 

"Yes, we went to the park! An' I seed a fire truck! It was red!" 

"So, this is Rachael," Charles said, his voice even. Rachael twisted around in Jean's lap to look at the strange man with her Mommy. 

"Rachael, this is Professor Xavier. He used to be your Mommy's teacher," Jean explained. Rachael observed Charles with wide blue eyes. "What do you say?" 

"Pleased-to-meet-you," Rachael blurted in one breath. She squirmed in Jean's arms, burying her face in her mother's neck. 

"She's not normally shy," Jean told Charles. 

"She's only a child. You said her telepathy is active?" 

"Yes, she developed it when she was two. Startled the life out of me one morning when I heard her inside my head, asking for cookies," Jean laughed uneasily. She didn't like the way Charles was looking at her daughter. 

"Has she exhibited any other powers?" 

"A mild healing factor. Not as powerful as Logan's but it takes care of the usual bumps and scrapes. I think she'll develop some TK later." Inside her mind, Jean was asking herself: 'Why am I telling him all this?' 

"Have you considered enrolling her at the Academy? She'll need training in her abilities." 

"Which I'm providing," Jean told him frostily. 'Now we get to the point!' her inner voice crowed. 

"But are you able to provide her with everything she'll need? Are you able to prepare her for life in a world that hates and fears her?" 

"This may be news to you Charles, but there are mutants who live in that world every day of their lives. Not all of them are oppressed. In fact, some of them live simple, ordinary lives. And with the help of the CPC, that will become the norm. Now I think I'll be leaving. You're frightening my daughter, and you're making me angry. I don't think we should meet each other again." With that she rose, and stalked out. 

"So. How did it go?" Misty asked her as they left the restaurant. Jean growled. "Not good, I take it?" 

"Honestly, Misty, if I never see Professor Charles Xavier again, it'll be too soon. He was always intense, but now! He's changed, and not for the better." 

"What he went through with Bastion, maybe it's not surprising." 

"Maybe, but I still don't have to like it."] 

End of Part Three. 

Disclaimer: Jean and her associates in the X-Universe belong to Marvel. I'm just borrowing them. I'll put them back where I found them when I'm done, I promise. It's not like I'm getting any money out of this, anyway. This incarnation of Rachael is mine, but if you ask nicely, you can use her. 

Rating: PG13 for adult themes and possible naughty language. 

Feedback: As always, most welcome. 

Special thanks to Doc Benway, Maggie and Duey, for their regular and enthusiastic feedback. 

Things As They Are 4/?By Rossi. Rossi@subreality.com 

"So, did you ever see the Professor again after that, Mom?" Rachael asked from her position on the sofa bed. Jean shook her head. 

"No, I didn't. Things might have been straightened out between us eventually- we had a lot of history- but he died a couple of years later. His time in Bastion's cells ruined his health, and the destruction of the mansion during O:ZT and the further impact of the Psi Wars meant the X-Men's connection with the Shi'ar was cut. No cloned body this time. And then Cyclops took over the teams, and you know what he's like. It was only Sean and Emma's efforts with Generation X, shaping them to be a kind of peace-keeping group that meant the Professor's legacy continued." 

"Cyclops is so uptight he's practically a human Black Hole," Rachael remarked dryly. Jean smirked and telekinetically hurled a cushion at her daughter, which was fielded in the same fashion. "I'm gonna go and write this up, an' then do some katas on the roof. I thought I'd go visit Dad this weekend, an' I don't want him catching me off-form." 

"Don't stay up too late. You've got school tomorrow," Jean cautioned, already turning back to her own work. As Rachael left, her glance fell on a team photo of the original X-Men, one of the few things she had kept from her years at Xavier's. "You had your chance, Scott. You were just too afraid to take it." 

[The X-Men buried Charles Francis Xavier on a cold November afternoon. Acutely aware of the stares and the whispered conversations- she wished she'd taken Misty's advice and worn an inhibitor, to block out the myriad disapproving thoughts- Jean stood tall at the grave side. Amongst the bright Spandex of the X-uniforms, her black clothing was a stark contrast. She felt as welcome as a carrion crow, and probably looked the part too. 

'I'm sorry it had to be this way, Charles,' she told the flower-decked coffin silently, 'You were a second father to me, the one who pulled me out of myself when my powers were too much, put me on the path to something better. I'm sorry if I disappointed you. And I'm even more sorry that you couldn't see beyond that. But Rachael is my daughter, and I wouldn't give her up for anything in the world.' The words of the service passed by her, so caught up in her own thoughts, and in trying to shield herself from others' was she. So when someone touched her elbow, she was startled to see the funeral was over, the coffin buried. She turned to the person beside her, and her heart wrenched in her chest when she saw who it was. 

"Scott." His grip on her arm tightened. 

"How dare you come her and make a show of yourself!" he hissed at her, the ruby quartz of his visor glowing red with the fury of his words. "How could you desecrate the Professor's name like this?" 

"Me desecrate the Professor's name? Scott, what on Earth are you babbling about?" Jean pulled away from her ex-husband's grip, augmenting her own strength with a little TK. "He was my teacher long before he ever found you, and no matter what's gone on between you and me, I won't let it stop me from paying my respects to that teacher!" She took a few steps away from him, and reined in her emotions. She wasn't the only one who was affected by the loss of Charles. "But I've done that now, so I'll leave you and your X-Men in peace," she added resignedly. Even as she turned to go, Jean found herself regretting the exchange. She and Scott had had so little contact in six years since their divorce: lawyers' letters, a brief meeting to discuss the property settlement. Jean had only asked for her personal possessions; she didn't want to be reminded of her previous life, and how badly things had gone wrong. His voice stopped her in her tracks. 

"Jean, I'm sorry. Can we talk? For just a little while?" There was no mistaking the wistfulness in his tone, and when Jean turned to face him, the impassive leader-masque had dropped, revealing the very human face of Scott Summers. 

"Fine," she replied, heading for a bench in the small cemetery. "So, what did you want to say to me?" Scott sat down beside her, keeping his distance. 

"Nothing. Everything. Jean, I don't know. I just didn't want you to leave like that. I couldn't bear to see you walk away from me again." As he spoke, Scott rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. "These past few months, when Charles was so sick... It's been hard." 

"I can imagine," Jean said softly. "How's the team taking it?" Scott laughed hollowly. 

"Team? Sometimes I think there is no team any more, just a constant family argument. Half of them are gone, either trying to live normal lives or just plain missing. Some are dead." He stared gloomily across the cemetery. 

Following his gaze, Jean noticed several headstones that had been erected in her absence. Bishop, finally free of his future, and killed protecting the innocent, the way he'd always done. Warren- her throat constricted as she thought of the senselessness of his death. Hit by a car while staggering home drunk. He'd never gotten over Betsy leaving him the way she did. And Rogue had died of the Legacy virus, one of the last mutants to do so before Hank and Cecilia's research had finally paid off. Bobby had called Jean the night Rogue had been diagnosed, babbling about how Threnody had been right after all, that one of them was dying and didn't even know it. The Southern Belle had fought, harder than she'd ever done before, but in the end it wasn't enough. Her last months of life had been spent in isolation at Muir Island, her powers so heightened by the virus that even proximity triggered the absorption process. 

"The team will pull through. It has before," Jean said, pulling her thoughts away from the maudlin paths they had taken. 

"We always had a reason to before. Now we're the dinosaurs, on the path of extinction. Your brave new world doesn't need us, Jean." 

"Then adapt. Find a place for the X-Men. The Common People's Coalition may have succeeded in fostering peace between humans and mutants, but the battle's not over yet." Glancing at her watch, Jean rose to leave. "I'm sorry Scott, but I have to go. Mom's taking care of Rachael for me, and I have to go soon if I want to beat the traffic back to New York." 

"How is Ra- she? She's what- six now?" Jean noted his inability to say the name, the same name of the daughter he would never father with her. 

"Nearly seven. And a handful. But I wouldn't have it any other way." 

"Motherhood becomes you, Jean. You look well. And happy." 

"I am." Silence hung awkwardly between them. 

"I- miss you. I miss the way it was." Scott looked up at her from his seat on the bench. "Sometimes I wish I was like Cable, could go back in time and change things. Correct my mistakes." 

"I don't." The expression of shock on Scott's face was almost humorous. "It's not just Rachael, although she's big enough reason on her own. Leaving you, the X-Men, it set me free, Scott. Let me do things with my life I never thought of. Helped me make something of myself, something to be proud of." 

"So there's no hope?" Scott looked sadly up at her as she took his hand in her gloved one. 

"I'm sorry, Scott, but that's how things are. And maybe it's better for both of us this way. I might be free, but you are too. You just haven't realised yet."] 

Not for the first time, Rachael was glad the roof top of their apartment block had such a large open area. 'There's no way I could do this downstairs,' she thought as she moved through the kata. 'There's hardly enough room to swing Prometheus, let alone do _gankyu-dai_- too many kicks for a start.' The air was cold, and dressed as she was in loose black cotton pants and a grey tank top, she should have been freezing. But Rachael gave no sign she felt the cold: her healing factor more then compensated. No, Rachael's biggest problem at the moment was concentration. Having Jean share her memories had stirred up her own, and no matter how much she pushed them away, they kept returning. Finally, with an exasperated growl, Rachael stopped her katas and sat on the edge of the roof, staring out over the city. 'Since I can't concentrate, I might as well see what my brain's trying to show me,' she thought grumpily. 

[Eight year old Rachael was bored. And she was angry. Perched on a branch high up in one of the venerable oak trees that studded the Massachusetts Academy's front lawns, her legs swinging through empty air, she watched the grown-up gathering milling below her, and sulked. 

'Don't see why Mom had to drag me here,' she grumbled to herself. 'An' in a stupid dress too.' It had taken all of Jean's powers of persuasion to get her tomboy daughter into the pale green party frock: Generation X's graduation was a formal event. Here and there amongst the brightly-coloured finery of the family and guests were the graduating students, their black gowns and mortar boards a stark contrast. Rachael could see her mother and Jubilee talking with Auntie Kat and Uncle Pete, cooing over the one year old Alistair in Kat's arms. She pulled another face. Auntie Kat couldn't play with her because of the dumb baby, and Jubilee had decided she was too grown-up for games. 

"Go play with the X-Babies," she'd told Rachael the last time she'd tugged on the older girl's gown for attention. "It's taken us long enough to get ta graduate, an' I want ta enjoy it." 

"Humph," Rachael now snorted, resting her chin in her dirty hands, "Who'd want to play with a buncha losers like them anyhow?" 

Truth be told, it was the Academy's next class that had didn't want her around. 

"You're too small to play with us," fourteen year old Franklin had pronounced. "We're playing tag in the Grotto, an' since we're using powers, it's too dangerous for little kids." 

"Amiko doesn't have powers," Rachael had pointed out. The slender Japanese girl stuck out her tongue at Rachael behind Frank's back. 

"I don't need any dumb powers," she'd said, "Yuriko taught me plenty." 

"Leech is sorry, Rachael, but you're too little to play with us. Go back to your mother," the green-skinned power drainer had ordered her firmly. Even her cousins, Gailyn and Thomas, had nodded their agreement. In a temper, Rachael had stomped back to the gathering on the lawns, but instead of finding Jean, she'd found the tree instead. 

'Who needs 'em anyway?' she thought with all the vehemence of injured eight-year-old pride. 'I've got lotsa friends at home. Who cares what these X-jerks think?' 

A rustling of leaves above her startled her out of her sulk. 

"Who's there?" she called fearlessly. A man dropped onto the branch beside her, brushing leaves off his jacket. Rachael examined him with unabashed curiosity. He wasn't as tall as Jubilee's friends Everett and Angelo, but he was much older. Hairier too. His bare feet were like Bilbo's in "The Hobbit", with nails almost like claws. His black hair swept up into two tufts, sprinkled with silver here and there, and his eyes were a piercing blue. 

"Whatcha doin' up here kid?" he asked with a grin that had too many sharp white teeth. 

"Whadda _you_ doin' up here, mister?" she retorted, "Grown-ups don't climb trees. That's what my friend Jubie says." 

"Sounds like Jubie knows a lot," the man replied with a chuckle. "I'm just keeping outta the way." 

"Me too," Rachael sighed, "No-one wants me around down there, 'cept my Mom. An' she's busy. She doesn't get to see these people much, an' she's havin' fun. I don't want to spoil it for her." She looked up at the man beside her. "Whose way are you in?" 

"No-one in particular," he replied, "But all these people... It's been a while since I was around a crowd like this." Something in his voice sounded sad. Rachael stuck out her small hand. 

"I'm Rachael," she said with her best smile. Her hand was enveloped in his large callused one. 

"I thought you might be," he said, "Ya look like ya Mom. The name's Logan." 

"You know my Mom?" 

"Once upon a time, yeah, I did. I asked her ta come today, an' ta bring ya with her. I wanted ta meet ya." 

"Why?" Before Logan could answer, there was a commotion below them. 

"But Jean, we belong together! You can't keep denying destiny!" The brown-haired man with the red glasses was slurring his words strangely, and a whiff of a strong sweet-sour smell reached her sensitive nose. 

"Scott, you're drunk. Go and sober up. I'm not going to discuss this with you, now or any time. It's over, understand?" Jean's voice was a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. Rachael's temper, not under the best control, boiled over. 

"You leave my Mom alone!" she shouted, jumping out of the tree before Logan could grab her. He need not have worried, though. With a thought, Rachael created a TK cushion to break her fall. Then she was up and launching herself at the bad man bothering her mother. Her small hard head caught him in the stomach, and he fell on his butt, gasping for air. Rachael landed on him, kicking him with her patent leather shoes and punching him with small fists, until Jean pulled her off with her own TK. 

"Young lady, behave yourself!" she hissed, mortified by the fact that all eyes were on them, "How many times have I told you not to get into fights?" 

"But he was bothering you, Mom," Rachael sniffled, glaring at Scott, who was still trying to get his breath back. One of her punches had caught him on the nose, and it was bleeding. 

"I am more than capable of taking care of myself, Rachael," Jean told her sternly, but with less anger in her voice. Her link with her daughter was telling her Rachael had been sincerely worried. "Now go upstairs and clean yourself up. You're a mess." With a small nod, Rachael did as she was told, sticking her tongue out at the bad man as she passed him. As she left, her better-then-average hearing caught a stray remark: "She's certainly her father's daughter, isn't she, Jean?" 

"Stupid man, getting me into trouble," Rachael muttered as she climbed the stairs. "I don't like him!" She washed her face and hands in the girl's bathroom, and ran a brush through her tangled curls (ignoring the label on the brush's handle that said "Warning! Property of Paige! Touch and you die!"). There wasn't much she could do about the dress: it was stained with tree sap, and had a tear down the front, as well as some of the bad man's blood on it. Then she made her way to Jubilee's room, and curled up amongst the boxes and suitcases. "I'll just stay up here. Maybe Mom will forget about being mad at me," she decided. She yawned. It was warm and cosy in the small cave she had found amongst Jubilee's packing, and she was tired from using her TK: she hadn't had it long, and it still wasn't very strong. Before she realised, she fell asleep. 

As happened frequently in her dreams, Rachael found herself floating free of her body, drifting through the walls of the Academy until she found her mother and Mr Logan, talking together in a small rose garden. 

~ She's getting to be more than I can manage, Logan. I'm so afraid of doing something wrong. ~ Her mother sounded sad, and Dream-Rachael felt a stab of remorse. She didn't want her mother to be sad. 

~ Ya doin' fine, Jean, from what I saw o' th' kid. Sure she's got a temper on her, but considering who her folks are, it ain't surprising. ~ There was something odd in the way the man held himself, different from when he'd been in the tree with her. Like he was fighting himself; he wanted to be near her Mom, but another part of him didn't. It made him look uncomfortable. 

~ I don't know, Logan. When I left Scott, I was so sure. I even faced down the Professor, and it took forever to bring my parents around. Now I wonder if I did the right thing, or whether it was arrogant of me to think I could raise a child of her talents alone. ~ 

~ Ya never were th' sort ta doubt herself, not when it counted. ~ Mr Logan moved away from her, staring out over the garden, an unlit cigar in his hand. Dream-Rachael pulled a face. She hated smoke. It hurt her nose. 

~ I was glad when Jubilee called and told me you'd come back, ~ her mother said quietly. ~ You were gone almost eight years. We were wondering what had happened to you. ~ 

~ 'We', Re- Jean? ~ 

~ Kitty and Pete. Jubilee. Storm. And me. I thought I'd driven you away forever. ~ 

~ So did I. ~ Mr Logan chewed on his cigar without lighting it. ~ Some things take longer to think through than others. ~ 

~ And what did you decide? ~ 

~ I can't forget what ya did t' me, Red. ~ Her mother's face fell, and Dream-Rachael felt the familiar anger building up within her. ~ But I can start t' forgive. I'll be here at th' Academy, if ya need ta find me. ~ 

~ What about the X-Men? Storm said... ~ 

~ Changed my mind. World doesn't need fighters any more. It needs peacekeepers. Sean an' Emma made me an offer, an' I'll take it. I had Amiko sent here for th' same reason. I'll be trainin' 'em ta defend 'emselves, ta know when ta stand their ground an' when ta retreat. How ta control 'emselves. Figured I oughta pass on what I learned. ~ He glanced at Jean. ~ If ya want, I'll teach Rachael for ya, too. She's getting' big enough ta be dangerous with that temper o' hers. ~ 

~ I don't want her to leave home yet... ~ Dream-Rachael's heart jumped. Her Mom still loved her! She wouldn't send her away! 

~ An' I don't want her to. She belongs with ya, Red. But I think th' kid should spend time with her dad. ~ 

Rachael didn't hear any more. She was woken by a hand shaking her shoulder gently, and a familiar voice calling her name. 

"Rachael? Yo, rug rat, wake up. Or d'ya wanna go in th' van with the rest of the stuff?" 

"Huh? Jubie?" Rubbing her eyes, Rachael tried to get her bearings. When she unfolded herself, her legs tingled with pins and needles. "Owie!" she exclaimed, hopping from foot to foot. Then she remembered something. Something important. "I gotta go find my Mom!" She streaked past a surprised Jubilee and Everett, down the stairs, past the now-departing graduation party, and out to the rose garden. As she expected, Jean was there with Logan. 

"Rachael, where have you been, honey? I was starting to get worried..." For once Rachael ignored her mother, instead barrelling into Logan's legs. 

"Daddy!" she cried, clinging to his legs like a leech. Over her head, Jean and Logan exchanged looks. 

"I guess that solves the problem of asking her if she wants to see you, Logan," Jean laughed.] 

End of Part Four. 

Disclaimer: Jean and her associates in the X-Universe belong to Marvel. I'm just borrowing them. I'll put them back where I found them when I'm done, I promise. It's not like I'm getting any money out of this, anyway. This incarnation of Rachael is mine, but if you ask nicely, you can use her. 

Rating: PG13 for adult themes and possible naughty language. 

Feedback: As always, most welcome. 

This is it, folks, the last part. I know I've left some things unfinished, but hey, if it bothers you that much, feel free to fill in the gaps. Thanks to everyone who sent me feedback and ideas: it helped me keep going.Sorry there's been such a delay, but Frank, my Muse, just wouldn't co-operate... 

Things As They Are 5/5 

By Rossi. 

"So, are you excited about going to college?" asked the slightly-built Vietnamese girl sitting on Rachael's bed. 

"Kinda. It'll be great bein' on my own- Mom can be a bit over-protective- but I'll miss her, and everyone else. Including you," Rachael added after a long enough pause to make Mai Ling pout. "But it's not like I'm gonna be on the other side of the country. An' you'll be joinin' me soon enough." She paused in her packing, a handful of books suspended in mid-air. "You still wanna be roomies next year, don't you?" 

"Of course," Mai replied, with her own wicked grin, "Remember, 'the life of the person you save is yours forever'. You're stuck with me." Rachael snorted. 

"Yeah, right. As if. P'raps I should have left you to big ol' Stu's attentions?" Mai threw a stuffed toy- a Bamf doll Kat had given Rachael when she was small- at her friend's head, and in the process of ducking it, Rachael let her telekinetic grip slip. The books fell to the floor with a thump. 

~ Rachael? What's going on up there? I thought you were packing? ~ Jean's telepathic "voice" was more amused than concerned: the link she shared with Rachael told her nothing serious had happened. 

~ Just my stupid TK again, Mom ~ Rachael sent back, crossly. ~ How you ever managed to lift fallen buildings, I'll never know. ~ 

~ Practice makes perfect, daughter mine. ~ Rachael sent the mental equivalent of a raspberry back down the link, and returned her attention to her packing. "How can one person accumulate so much junk?" she asked Mai, looking around the room helplessly. "Maybe I don't wanna go." 

"Of course you do. Here, let me help." 

"I thought you didn't want me to go?" 

"I don't. But I'll still help." 

["Hey! Leave her alone!" 

Seventh-grader Mai had never been so relieved to hear those words. She'd been wandering around the school yard on her own, learning the lay-out of this strange new school, when she'd been ambushed by a large boy with an unpleasant, pimpled face. He had her by the front of her blouse, and she could feel the rough brick of the wall pushing into her back. She wasn't sure what she had done, or whether it mattered. Some people didn't need an excuse to hate, or so her father told her. 

The girl who had come around the corner grabbed the boy by the arm. 

"I told you to leave her alone. Are you deaf as well as ugly, Tompkinson?" she said in what could only be described as a snarl. Her blue eyes held the bully's muddy brown ones unwaveringly. Then, incredibly, Tompkinson loosened his grip. 

"Ahh, the little mook's not worth it," he muttered, stepping away from Mai, "She's just a shitty little seventh grader." 

"Which means you won't wanna mess yourself up hasslin' her again, right Stu?" the red-haired girl told him, stepping between Mai and Stu. The boy mumbled something else and stomped off. "Yeah, an' th' same ta ya mother!" the girl called back after him as if she had heard what he'd said. "You all right, kid?" 

"I am now," Mai answered breathlessly, "Wow, you saved my life!" The other girl flushed. 

"Naw, he wouldn't have killed ya. Mighta just roughed you up a bit." She clapped Mai on the back. "I'm Rachael." 

"Mai. Mai Ling Nguyen." 

"C'mon, Mai, let's go back to the more civilised part of th' school. I can tell ya all ya need ta know ta survive high school."] 

"I didn't find out you were a mutant until a month later," Mai recalled as she picked up the books Rachael had dropped earlier, "Even when you confronted Stuart Tompkinson, you didn't use your powers. I thought that was so brave." 

"It wasn't that brave. Dad had already taught me enough ta take him down an' make sure he stayed down," Rachael shrugged. "An' he knew it too. He tried ta roll me for my lunch money on th' first day. He never messed with me after that." Abruptly, her stomach growled. "I think it's time for a break. My mutant metabolism needs re-fuelling." 

"Is that what you're calling it now?" Mai teased, "I thought you just wanted to stuff your face." She laughed and dodged the shower of stuffed toys that Rachael threw at her, and ran down the stairs, her best friend in hot pursuit. 

"So, how long before Rachael goes off to college?" Misty asked Jean, cupping her hands around her coffee mug. Jean sighed. 

"Two weeks. And I miss her already." 

"And she hasn't even left? Jean, you're such a mother hen," laughed Colleen, contemplating the plate of cookies, and then deciding against it. 

"I know. I'm being silly. But no matter what, Rachael will always be my little girl." 

"Little girls grow up, as well I know," remarked Ororo, "Look at Kitty: I nearly lost her because I couldn't let her grow up. To think that obnoxious husband of hers was the one who got us speaking to each other again!" 

"Pete's a good man: a rude little bastard, but he loves Kitty, and worships the children," Misty said, "So, Jean, how did you feel when Rachael told you which college she wanted to go to?" 

"A little hurt, initially. But I understand why she didn't want to go to Bart's. It would be difficult, having your mother as your lecturer. And it's what she wants. She's picked a good school, and it's not so far away that she can't come home occasionally." Jean sighed again. "Where does all the time go? It only seems like yesterday she was tearing around getting into scrapes." 

[Central Park, on a pleasant May afternoon. Jean sat on a park bench in the sunshine, watching Rachael playing an ad-hoc game of baseball with a group of other nine and ten year olds. The warm weather had brought a lot of families out into the park. Hair blazing red-gold like the tail of a comet, Rachael raced around the bases on sturdy brown legs. 

~ Go Rachael! ~ Jean cheered into her daughter's mind as she touched safely onto third base. 

~ Jeez Mom, not now! ~ Rachael groaned back, ~ I need t' conc'ntrate! ~ 

~ Fine Di Maggio. Knock 'em dead! ~ Jean chuckled at Rachael's telepathic face pulling. She leaned back on the bench, enjoying the sun's warmth on her face, and the chance to relax. 

"Jean! Fancy meeting you here!" Squinting into the sun, Jean couldn't make out the silhouette. The mind and the voice were different matters. 

"Ororo! It's good to see you!" The former African goddess smiled and took a seat next to Jean. 

"It has been some time, my friend," Ororo said, "I haven't seen you since Jubilee's graduation." 

"And how is the little firecracker?" asked Jean with a smile. 

"Well. I spoke to her last week, in fact. She's working as a consultant on mutant affairs in Washington D.C. I think she provides the politicians there with a much-needed change of perspective. She and Everett announced their engagement about three months ago, just before they moved up to Washington." 

"Yes, I got her e-mail. Any decision on a date yet?" 

"No, not yet. They're still adjusting to life outside of Xavier's, I think. It took them so long to graduate, what with O:ZT, the whole Emplate mess and various other crises. And her job is very demanding." 

"Did Everett get that teaching position?" 

"Yes, and he's enjoying it. He's wonderful with children, and his talent helps him understand the troubled ones." Ororo looked away from Jean. "Actually, Jubilee didn't call me for just a chat. She was calling in her professional capacity. The government has a request for the X-Men." 

"You sound awfully serious, Ororo. I hope it's not bad news." 

"It depends on your perspective. They want the X-Men to disband." Ororo's strangely feline blue eyes held Jean's green ones, gauging her reaction. Carefully keeping her expression neutral, Jean said: 

"I see." 

"You already knew, didn't you? And you did not seek to warn us?" 

"Not exactly. But I knew something was brewing. The CPC has been concerned about the X-Men's activities for some time. Ororo, the war's over. It's time for the X-Men to get a well-deserved rest." To Jean's surprise, Ororo chuckled. 

"You do not have to convince me of that, my dear friend. Goddess knows I have grown weary of the struggle. It's just... hard to give it up, after all these years. I can't help but feel I am betraying Charles' Dream." Jean reached over and gripped the other woman's hand. 

"Ororo, don't you see? We have achieved his Dream, or close to it, anyway. There's plenty of work to be done, mending bridges, work that the teams can be involved in. But it's also time for you to have normal lives, the lives you sacrificed for Charles Xavier and his Dream. Time for you and Remy to raise your family without the fear that one or both of you might not come home after a mission." 

"Perhaps you are right, Jean. Perhaps you have been right all along. It is time for us to live, and to bring new life into the world without fear." Ororo stroked her stomach meaningfully, and Jean noticed the small bulge for the first time. 

"Ororo, you're not! You sly minx, keeping quiet about it! When are you due?" 

"Five months. Remy is sure it will be a boy, of course, a brother to Jean Luc, but I feel this little one will be a girl. In a way, she was the one who made the decision for me: she deserves more than the life of an outlaw. Remy and I shall be moving to New Orleans. With him being named Guildmaster, the ban has been revoked." 

"I'm so happy for you," Jean whispered, giving Ororo a fierce hug, "But what about the others?" 

"Jubilee didn't come empty handed. Hank and Cecilia have both been offered research positions at Muir Island, continuing Moira's work on destructive mutations. Bobby has decided to move in with his mother and help support her now his father is dead." 

"Hopefully he'll find a nice boy and settle down," Jean giggled. Bobby had finally "come out of the closet" soon after Charles' death, which had prompted Jean to wonder if their mentor hadn't exerted some subtle telepathic control over the "less desirable" aspects of his students' natures. 

"Sam and Rahne are going to Kentucky to help out with the farm and raising Sam's younger siblings. Paige is hoping it will give her the chance to resume her college studies and get in touch with her old class-mates. Marrow did not take the news well: I'm afraid she may cause problems in the long run. I've had her sent to Muir, in the hope they might be able to help her, not only with her mutation, but with her personal history as well. The Massacre has left its scars on her soul." Ororo sighed before continuing, "And my own actions have not helped the situation. Bright Lady grant her the peace she seeks." 

"You've left someone out," Jean pointed out, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. 

"Have I? Who-?" Ororo tried to looked puzzled, but couldn't quite pull it off. 

"Don't try and protect me, 'Ro. I'm a big girl. What's happening with Scott?" Ororo looked glum, and the sky clouded over a little. 

"You knew he was... having difficulties?" 

"If you mean the drinking, yes, Ororo, I knew," Jean replied evenly. 

"Well, he got no better, I'm afraid. My receiving leadership of the team over him did not help the situation. When his father last visited with the Starjammers, he asked to join them. We haven't heard of him since." 

"Oh." The feeling of loss, although small, was surprising to Jean. She had thought she'd dealt with her feelings for Scott a long time ago. She didn't get much time to analyse it, 'though, before a red-haired bullet tore up to them. 

"Mom! Did ya see me hit that homer? I knocked it way outta the park, an' I didn't use my TK either!"] 

Rachael pulled up Jean's ancient Ford outside the front steps of the residential college which would be her home for the next five years. The small car was full to the brim with boxes, suitcases and bags: Jean had even nursed a pot plant on her lap for the two-hour long trip. 

"So, here we are," Rachael stated, trying to hide the quiver in her voice. Unfortunately, she couldn't hide the turmoil in her mind from her mother as well. 

~ Are you sure about this, honey? You can always transfer to Bart's. ~ 

~ No, Mom. This is where I want to be. I thought you'd be pleased to get me out of your hair.~ 

~ Never. But I'll respect your decision. I know you want your own life. Just don't forget, I'm only a thought away. ~ Jean tried to smile, but it wasn't terribly convincing. 

~ And you can have your life back. Maybe even get a boyfriend? ~ Rachael deliberately kept her mental tone light. 

~ Who'd want a dried-up old thing like me? ~ Jean echoed her daughter's humour. 

"Plenty would," Rachael switched to ordinary speech, "That Professor Bryant, for a start." 

"You were supposed to say, 'You're not old', kiddo," Jean protested. "Shall we go find your room?" 

"Sure, Mom. But let me do the talking, okay?" 

"Of course. And Rachael?" 

"Yes, Mom?" 

~ I've never regretted any of the choices I made. Remember that. ~ 

~ I will, Mom. ~ Rachael opened the driver's door, squared her shoulders and made her way up the steps. Jean hesitated at the car for a moment, watching the athletic form of her daughter as she moved away from her. Then she brushed the tears from her eyes, put on her brightest smile, and followed. 

The End. 


End file.
